THE TROUBLE WITH PAPER PLANES(4)

Five years is a drop in the ocean – legally, she’s still alive.

I was starting to sound like a broken record even to myself. I’d begun to wonder who I was trying to convince. I couldn’t muster up the energy for another argument about this, not right now.

We followed the main road back into Raglan in silence. When I pulled into Vinnie’s driveway a short time later, he dug his phone and his keys out of the glove-box.

“So what’s on the agenda today?” he asked.

He’d been doing that for the past week. I felt like he had me on suicide watch. It was completely uncalled for and it was making me claustrophobic. And short-tempered.

“You’re doing it again.”

He looked over at me blankly.

“I’m twenty-eight. I don’t need babysitting.”

“For Christ’s sake,” he snapped, throwing open the door. “I’m not allowed to give a shit now?”

He had this innate sense of how to make me feel like crap. And once again, it worked. It wasn’t his fault – I knew that. I knew how much he wanted to fix this, to take away the ache in my soul, but there were some things that were outside his capabilities. He wasn’t Batman, even though he used to act like it when we were kids. This grief, this pain, this almost unbearable yearning was mine, and it was one of the few things I couldn’t really share with him.

“I’ve got two jobs in town this morning,” I said, by way of an apology. “One this afternoon, on the peninsula. Should be done by three, then I’m heading over to Henry’s.”

“See – that wasn’t so hard was it?” He flashed me a lop-sided smile as he climbed out of the truck, slamming the door after him.

That was one of the things I loved about him. He didn’t hold a grudge. Truthfully, he was one of the most laid-back human beings I’d ever met. If we didn’t look so much alike, I’d wonder if one of us was adopted. Unfortunately, we both looked a lot like Dad, so there was no mistaking our lineage. Olive skin with light blue eyes that seemed out of kilter with our skin tone. Short, light brown hair. Both of us over six feet tall. He was two years older, but sometimes it felt like the other way around. He was relaxed, loved to play the fool, was fiercely protective – just like Dad. I was more like Mum. Serious, sensible, far too deep for my own good, especially lately.

I leant on the back of the seat and watched through the back window as he grabbed his surfboard off the deck of the truck and came back alongside the passenger window.

“Flick me a text when you leave Henry’s. Jas has some baby shower shit going on and I need to make myself scarce. If it’s not the baby shower, it’s the damn party lately. It’s doing my freakin’ head in, hearing about it all day, every day. I just wanted something quiet, y’know? Beer, food, music.”

I could sympathise. He was a man of simple tastes, always had been. Right now, though, I’d have given anything to be organising a birthday party like this for Em. Being around the two of them was sometimes bittersweet. They were about to become a proper family, and I was as jealous as hell.

“Meet you at the pub?” Vinnie asked.

“Yeah, okay.”

He tapped the truck’s roof and started down the driveway, surfboard under his arm. Then he paused, turned around and came back.

“Sorry if I came on a bit strong before,” he said, leaning in the driver’s window.

He didn’t hold grudges, and he was always quick with an apology if he’d overstepped the mark. Another difference between us. I was jealous of him for a lot of reasons.

“I miss her too, y’know. We all do.”

“I know.”

I knew a lot of things. I knew that I didn’t have the monopoly on heartache. I knew that this time of year was tough. I knew that sometime over the next two days, I was probably gonna go into the spare bedroom wardrobe, get out the box full of photos I’d hidden in there and cry like a baby.





BLOODY HELL, IT WAS HOT. I shoved my cap up and ran the back of my hand over my brow. Thank God this was my last job of the day. I’d had just about enough of this heat. It was just after three and the sun was at its most brutal.


I trudged with the lawnmower up the driveway towards my truck. I couldn’t wait to get these boots off. My feet felt like they were melting. I wasn’t cut out for boots. The first thing I did when I finished work was get rid of them. I was dreading having to dress up for the party tomorrow night. Anything that required shoes was a major commitment. Jas had no idea how much I was sacrificing for this thing.